


The Rumbling

by doomtwinkie (shinysparks)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Horror and Crack, I've had waaaaay too much caffeine, Ichabbie Forever, Ichabbie Holloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysparks/pseuds/doomtwinkie
Summary: Crane is tormented by an unseen force...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta-ed idea I got while writing chapter three of the [kitty fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8401144) last night. Vague attempt at trying to write horror.
> 
> Happy Halloween, everyone! <3

Ichabod Crane thought he knew fear.

He had faced evil, both magical and mundane; both mortal and not. He had fought battles and faced death more times than he could even count. He had suffered fatal wounds at the hands of evil, wounds that had forced the last breath from him hours afterward. Cold. Dead. Buried. And finally resurrected into a terrifying future where nothing made sense and everyone he’d ever known had died long, long ago.

He thought he knew fear. He thought he knew terror. He thought he knew pain.

He thought wrong.

He sat there, legs so frozen in place he could not move them, trembling all over with an icy cold sweat dripping from every pore. His long hair was damp from sweat, and long tendrils hung limply across his face. He was feverish and he knew it. Slightly bent over, he slowly and carefully rocked himself back and forth with his long arms wrapped around himself. He breathed so heavily he was practically panting, and his throat became drier by the minute. It was difficult to speak, but he tried, anyway.

“No, please,” he quietly begged at the unseen force that tormented him through parched lips, “no more. Please...”

It was coming again. The Rumbling. He could feel the shift, the tightness, the wave of pain. It had given him a few slight reprieves since it began its vile attack on his being earlier that morning; but otherwise, it had been relentless. It had been terrible. It had been an unspeakable horror. It had been absolutely demonic.

“No, no, NO!” He cried out, as the Rumbling returned for another round of torment.

He winced at the next salvo, bending over so far that his damp hair tickled his knees. He groaned and grunted, bloodshot eyes slammed shut, as the Rumbling rocketed through him once again. The pain it brought swelled within him until he cried out; and places within him that had never once seen the light of day burned with a terrible fire...

_PLBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBT!_

“Crane, are you okay in there?” Abbie said, knocking on the door, but peeking her head around, anyway. She reached her hand in, holding a can of aerosol air freshener and wisely spraying it around in the cabin’s small bathroom before she entered.

Crane sat up a little, pulling a towel over his exposed legs, and nodded weakly.

The lieutenant walked over to him, carrying a bag of supplies that contained a four-pack of extra soft toilet paper; a plastic canister of vaseline; and a bottle of lemon-flavored powerade for him to drink. She sat each on the counter next to him; and then reached over and combed her fingers through his damp hair, pushing it out of his face. He looked up at her, gazing into her warm, brown eyes and feeling true comfort for the first time since the Rumbling had driven him from his slumber. Abbie touched his shoulder, and smiled.

“Next time, spring for the bottled water, Crane,” She said.


End file.
